Showing posts with label Rebecca Hall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rebecca Hall. Show all posts

Thursday, March 03, 2011

The Town

Brilliant writer and great guy Les Phillips has allowed me to run his review of The Town.  Enjoy.
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THE TOWN (2010, directed by Ben Affleck).  Ben Affleck has become a really excellent director of action.  I don't mean asteroids 'n' scary monsters; I mean his presentations of robberies, gunfights and car chases make them new, with special rhythms and angles.  They look and feel like nothing you've seen.  And Ben loves Boston (and Cambridge).  His footage of the city is special too; the camera lingers on the geometry of the downtown skyline, or it pauses for a second to revere the Bunker Hill Monument, or observe something as small and particular as the toll booth on the Tobin Bridge.  Affleck films a robbery and getaway in the North End, one of the oldest neighborhoods in America, and somehow he fits all the energy and violence into its tight old streets and alleys.  Those sequences are both engineering and filmmaking; it's impressive film art.  The director proved with his first film how well he understands poor white Boston; he "gets" the sociology of Charlestown perfectly.  And, of course, he's Ben Affleck, so they let him film at Fenway Park.
THE TOWN has some absolutely wonderful performances.  Rebecca Hall is superb.  She plays a bank manager, one of the random young professionals who've moved into Charlestown's gentrified sector, in the neighborhood but certainly not of it.  She falls in love with a bank robber -- that would be Doug MacRay, played by Ben Affleck. Why would she fall for a criminal from the 'hood?  Hall makes it more than plausible; we see a refined young woman who's also more than a bit lonely, carrying around some incompleteness that's waiting for somebody to come along.  Pete Postlewhaite is a florist who also happens to be the local crime lord, and he is the most menacing, purely evil florist in all of recorded history; he's a quiet, suggestive Irish serpent.  Jeremy Renner is an utterly convincing Boston boyo, vigorous and vulgar.  Blake Lively has the druggy-slutty girl role, and she makes the most out of her minutes on screen; she's brash, wounded and sorrowful.  I haven't even gotten around to Jon Hamm and Chris Cooper, who are just as fine.  This cast is a tremendous embarrassment of riches, and Affleck makes the most of them.
So there are great visual moments, many fine pieces of acting, many fine scenes.  What's missing from THE TOWN?  A screenplay good enough to weave all this humanity into a persuasive narrative, and deep enough to highlight the moral resonance that's only touched on.  There are several little speeches where characters tell their backstories -- how Doug MacRay lost his mother, how his sidekick has always searched for a family.  But all of these speeches are thin, cliche, sentimental.  THE TOWN announces itself as a story about a community where crime is the dominant art and craft, handed down through generations; about mere theft that escalates into a series of murderous rampages; but there's no moral urgency, no gravity.  When all is said and done, this is a story about some bank robbers.  Also missing:  the central performance that could anchor the film.  Doug McRay is Charlestown's representative man; he's got to embody all the pain and conflict of the cursed reluctant criminal, acting out his fate.  Affleck spends much of his screen time reacting, furrowing his brow, speaking the lines; he's not awful, but he never finds the character.  He's occupying space that needs a great performance.  Affleck can be a fine actor, but he doesn't deliver here.
Ah, but Affleck the director!  GONE, BABY, GONE was a pleasant surprise.  THE TOWN is much more than that; this is a director with real vision and imagination, first-rate talent with actors.  THE TOWN is not quite Affleck's breakthrough, but the next film might well be.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Frost/Nixon


FROST/NIXON captured my imagination from beginning to end. It took interesting people through definitive moments in their lives and the life of the nation, immersed us in their stories, and executed the impossible task of generating tension in a scenario whose conclusion we already know. And it does it while avoiding the talkfest trap so common to adaptations of successful plays.

Look, Nixon's interesting and we all know Frank Langella can act. So the movie's two strikes up in the count coming right out of the pen. But David Frost, the vapid talk show host who gets lucky with a big fish? And Michael Sheen to play him? Well, Sheen's a revelation. In THE QUEEN, he *was* Tony Blair, with all that entails. In FROST/NIXON, he does a David Frost whose shallowness hides depths of ambition and desperation that may be hidden even to himself. This guy's got range, and he also just got on to my "actors to watch" list. He makes David Frost, cheeseball tv performer, a hero the audience can get behind, and we relish the comparisons and contrasts with Langella's controlled, savvy, but lost Nixon.

Director Ron Howard handles those comparisons and contrasts, the heart of the movie, simply enough for a mainstream audience yet maturely enough for smart people like us. His direction, never flashy, borders on documentarian; and it gives the picture the realism it needs while remaining cinematic.

This is a quality film.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Vicky Cristina Barcelona


Vicky Christina Barcelona

Sorry, I just don’t care about anybody in VICKY CHRISTINA BARCELONA.

Look, I’ve got a wife, two jobs, three kids, a dog, a house, and the very real possibility of an airline furlough on the horizon. I find it difficult to get lost in the problems of wealthy young people with worthless educations and too many options.

The feckless rich girl must leave the wealthy artist’s household because of her restlessness? Frak you.

The wealthy artist is locked in a destructive relationship with the crazy lady? Frak you.

The aimless rich girl must choose between the wealthy artist and the wealthy banker? Frak you and enjoy his bonus check.

I mean, hey, I’m all for the glamorous rich. I love it when they dance around in Fred Astaire movies or banter with Groucho. But I just don’t have time for the sun-drenched parasites in this movie.

Next.